The Shadow of the Salon
Roella was waiting for Sophia in the living room, her expression remarkably calm. She held Sophia in high regard—not merely because she was the head maid to her mother, but because the previous Duke of Schwaben had personally recognized her competence and appointed her as the head maid to the Empress.
"Sophia presents her respects to Her Imperial Highness, Princess Roella."
Sophia bowed with practiced grace. Roella gestured for her to take a seat, then went straight to the point.
"I want to ruin Laila’s salon."
"Your Highness!"
Caroline, who had been waiting nearby, cried out in shock, as if to restrain her, for Roella had not uttered a single word of this while they waited. But in that short time, Roella’s resolve had already hardened.
Sophia explained calmly.
"It is said that Lady Laila’s true identity is that of the daughter of Gisela Münchhausen, who was a lady-in-waiting to the late Empress. It is presumed she was an illegitimate child. While it was claimed she was a relative of the Count of Andex, strictly speaking, she is the niece of the Countess."
"And so what?"
"It means her connection to the Duke of Klaus is not as profound as one might think. Since the Duke is overly sensitive to anything that might remind him of the late Empress, one could say she simply exploited that gap."
It was meant to imply that she was not worth worrying about, but Roella bit her lower lip firmly.
"That doesn't matter. I want Laila to be destroyed."
Even if she were nothing more than a lowly maid, Roella would have felt the same.
Every time she recalled the heat in Ezekiel’s gaze that night, she was consumed by rage and humiliation. She could not tolerate the fact that the woman was receiving a look filled with such burning desire and passion—a look so intense it seemed capable of melting the recipient—when she herself had never once received such a gaze, not even in the bedroom.
Sophia bowed her head slightly, fiddling with her collar.
"If a salon’s reputation is ruined, the owner usually suffers the consequences as well."
"Do you have a suitable method?"
"Are you aware that the Marelle Troupe has been significantly expanding its scale recently?"
Roella looked at Sophia with an expression that asked if she really needed to know such trivial things. Sophia explained calmly.
"As The Curtain Rises has become a hit, many are taking an interest not only in the lead actors but in the supporting cast as well. In particular, there are quite a few men who wish to sponsor the protagonist, Luna."
"How filthy."
Roella’s reaction was immediate.
Performers were treated as lowly. While popular performers might receive praise and invitations to noble salons, only a very small number of enthusiasts truly respected them. Unlike sponsoring a theater, a troupe, or an orchestra itself, sponsoring an individual performer generally meant entering into a contract for a mistress.
Sophia ignored Roella’s retort and continued.
"I understand that neither the lead actress, Luna, nor Zion have accepted any sponsors yet. Everyone who has personally approached the members of the Marelle Troupe has failed."
"And?"
"There are even those who have sent letters directly to Lady Laila, writing down the names of the actors and their own contact information. It is essentially demanding that the owner sell the actors to them. I have heard they were all ignored."
Roella was impulsive, but she was not foolish. Hearing this much, she caught on to Sophia’s plan and leaned forward.
"I suppose the members of the Marelle Troupe are frequently invited to the salon? For short performances, that is. It could look as if Laila is showcasing her troupe members to arrange mistress contracts, couldn't it?"
"It is quite common for the owner of a troupe or an orchestra to act as a pimp."
A pimp for mistress contracts—hardly the work of a proper noble.
The Marelle Troupe’s rapid rise to fame was primarily due to the massive success of The Curtain Rises and the fact that a noble troupe owner was actively involved, but one could not overlook the fact that the troupe itself was operated with dignity.
However, if Laila were personally selling off her troupe members at her salon, the salon’s reputation, Laila’s reputation as a lady, and the reputation of the Marelle Troupe would all come crashing down at once.
Greatly tempted, Roella licked her upper lip and looked at Sophia.
"Can you do it?"
"I have lent you my wisdom. You should leave the practical execution to someone else."
"Yes. Sophia is busy, after all. Thank you."
"I stepped away from my duties to come here. I shall take my leave now."
Sophia stood up, bowed politely, and then retreated to return to her office.
With this, one of her worries was eased. If Roella could successfully bring Laila down, the Marelle Troupe would be disbanded, and Zion Miller would be removed from the world’s spotlight.
Whether to dispose of him or take him in—that was a matter to consider afterward.
It was just before the end of the workday when Benjamin Fisher, secretary to the Count of Zeppelin, received a visit from Jan Sommer.
Upon hearing that he had a visitor, he headed to the reception room, where a familiar face stood waiting. Benjamin called out to him with delight.
"Jan!"
They had been close during their university days, but they had rarely met since each had settled into their respective positions.
Nevertheless, Benjamin was not overly surprised or flustered, thanks to a letter he had sent a short while ago. He was also aware of the contents of the letter from the Count of Lutgarth that he had enclosed with his own inquiry.
Thinking that it must be an important matter, and that the person had come in person instead of sending a reply, he shook hands with Jan.
"It’s been a long time. You look healthy."
"I heard you were doing well. They say you have the trust of the Count of Lutgarth?"
"I’m not even from a vassal family, but he has been kind enough to look upon me favorably."
As he said this, Jan subtly gestured toward the man standing behind him.
Only then did Benjamin look properly at the man. The man, who had a wide-brimmed hat pulled low, had a large frame and wore a jacket and trousers made of poor-quality, wrinkled cotton. Benjamin had assumed he was a servant who had followed Jan.
As the man took off his hat, a strong, refined face was revealed. His clear, black eyes looked intelligent, and his lips, pressed into a straight line, held a strong sense of will.
His back and neck were straight and full of dignity, as if he had never once bent them in his life. He was a man who did not know how to grovel. That alone was enough for Benjamin to realize who the man was, and he quickly bowed his head.
"I apologize for not recognizing you. I never imagined that the Count of Lutgarth would visit in person, looking like this..."
Now he understood why Jan had not been sitting in the reception room. He could not have sat while his master stood.
Theodore spoke in a calm voice.
"I apologize if I startled you. I thought it would be better to come in person than to write a reply, as I was coming to the capital anyway. However, I feared it might be a burden to the Count of Zeppelin if I visited while revealing my identity..."
"No matter how you arrived, he would have welcomed you."
"Yes. Thank you for saying so."
Theodore said with a bitter smile.
He had deliberately brought only a few trusted aides and entered the capital quietly, hiding his identity out of concern for being the subject of gossip. Thus, it must have been an even more bewildering visit for the Count of Zeppelin.
Benjamin said quickly.
"I will inform the Count of Zeppelin. Please wait a moment."
"I would appreciate it."
Theodore replied and pulled his hat back down.
There was no need to wait long. Benjamin returned shortly to guide him, and Theodore and Jan were able to enter Ferdinand’s study without encountering anyone.
Ferdinand welcomed him warmly and held out his hand.
"It has been a long time, Count of Lutgarth."
"Since I have not yet held the succession ceremony, please just call me Theodore."
"I cannot do that. Procedures are merely a formality anyway. Now, please, take a seat."
The two greeted each other with a handshake.
Once Theodore sat down, Ferdinand ordered tea to be brought and took his own seat. Theodore opened the conversation first.
"I am not skilled in politics. You might criticize me for being unrefined, but I will ask you directly. Does the Duke of Klaus have any intention of naming a successor?"